chaos.
on the  street
in my  head
on the  tv
in the  room.
i stand  innocent.
it swims around  me.
i live the silent  movie.
bam...fast
furious
fire
strong
midnight  express.
sleeping in the  bronx, 
smelling deep  history
race, creed,  industrialized waste, 
toxic to my  system,
messy,  grimy,
how do people live  like this?
..fixing for a taste  of home,
not going to come so  easy
feeling  queasy.
new york, new  york, giant jungle
people fight to stay  alive
dyin' inside but  hungry like tigers
fast and furious  they push
whoosh goes the  train like
hunter and hunted,  
subway speed and  kids doing tricks street side.
do they know what's  going on in the south?
nothing comes out of  this boy's mouth but
"yeah, wanna buy my  pet lizard
got no  disease"
the dis-ease of our  nation
is seen on these  streets
exemplified thrice  fold.
now  what?
i am alone in my  thought on this
how do i make it  clear
without inciting  fear.
while tears wash  away in the floods of new orleans.
where do we all go  from here?
fear is the one  thing stopping.it.all.
i contemplate while  i wait for my pizza slice
filled with cheese,  grease and my god it's delicious, 
down in alphabet  city, with the sleaze and 
cuban restaurants  with melodic guitars and voices and drums
and beer and wine  bars and young girls with tats
and black berets and  striped socks.
sleeping on the  street.
she sleeps. or  dribbles not sure.
i eat. i look around  and find i'm in hell
how ironic as i am  in love with it all.
it drives my  creative muse
and i refuse to be  of it
but in it in any  case.
alive and kicking i  also am with it,loving it
performing in it,  feeling it.
now  what?
i find the keyboard  and
feel the ivories at  c-note,
a dive bar  that
eases my  mood.
i drink cheap  beer.
magic of lower east  side.
new york city has me  by the hook, line and sinker
and i'm not fine  with what i see, 
the black concrete  playgrounds,
and a city losing  time.
no time, all the  time, every time
people fast,  forward
in your  face.
..and hard truck  sounds and taxi cabs that don't stop when you
put your hand up  high and say "stop" i am crossing this god damn street.
"stop" with the  cockroaches and the grit on my glass of water.
"stop" with the  urine down on the L line 
people live with  this going to work and back
and they don't see  this simple fact,
they live in tunnels  on the way from here to there
tunnels under the  roads, the labyrinth of codes.
"stop" the chatter  inside my head of fear and 9/11 and clubs that don't pay
or leave it  ambiguous like they don't know what an artist needs.
what does an  artist need? 
         the  feeling of connection...
whispering my  thoughts ....do they know, 
...do they  know what is really going on?
are we all so  centrifugal to our own moment
our own  journey?
was this book  really created for me?
"go" with my heart, my pulse, the instinct to be alive,  and enjoy this fast
journey,  
the ploy, the  entrancing feeling of living on the edge and feeling
history,.. on 42nd  street.
where i stayed  last year
in 5 star  hell
and finally,  finally
performed on  broadway with a python at that.
new york city  town hall. 
i have done  it.
now what?  
how does it  feel?
what's real to  my heart my ambition to know
....to know i  have grabbed what i wanted to do
in '92,  as i rollerbladed through these steamy streets with Backstage mag in my  hands
and dreams in my  heart, 
and naivety  
in my lungs and all  i felt was fun and cold and hot
and all the stuff  that makes an artist alive, wanting, yearning, begging for a  stage
to be  heard.
living on adrenalin  and hard dreams, ambitions to fruition
i want to be heard..  new york city. do you hear me? do you feel me? do you want  me?
BUT i have done  it.
already.
i have made it  real
and lived  broadway
and  succeeded
for whatever  that success means?  what does it really  mean?
this constant fire  in my belly that says
more more  more
NOW  WHAT?
i turn to the  burbs
big houses, large  windows
fancy mercedes SUVs  and i sit here on the couch
wondering.
now  what?
while...  an  old lady dies in a hospital and i'm left holding my  friend's baby
so calm and  soft
she  smiles
with the innocence  of mother nature
she calms my  mind.
the innocence of  children
reminds me  that i must look at life through a child's eyes
at all  times
to  survive
my own  ambition.
now  what?
NOW. Now is  WHAT.
i breathe in 
i submerge to  dreamland to breathe some more
and feel the blue  sky beating it's heat 
reminding me of life  and love and california and passion surging, coursing through  me
. i live an  extraordinary life.
give me another  slice.
gilli moon .  september 10. 2005. manhattan.